


Competitive Enjolras

by A_Pirates_Love_For_Me



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Dorks, M/M, Pining Enjolras, Pining Grantaire, angsty, drinking game, terrible decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Pirates_Love_For_Me/pseuds/A_Pirates_Love_For_Me
Summary: It was a win win scenario for Grantaire. Either Enjolras was civil to him during the meeting and Grantaire could pretend they were actually friends or Enjolras was his usual self and Grantaire would end up too drunk to care. It seemed the perfect way to cope with his unrequited crush, that is until Enjolras found out what he was doing.





	Competitive Enjolras

**Author's Note:**

> So like I found this chilling in my drafts folder almost done from like a year ago and decided to just throw on an ending and put it up. Inspired by the time I was such Les Mis trash that instead of saying what I was trying to, I called a game Competitive Enjolras.

Grantaire could win a gold medal in self-sabotaging; especially when it came to Enjolras. It wasn’t that he did it on purpose or anything, he just couldn’t stop himself. So, when Courfeyrac had joked that he could turn Enjolras’ disdain into a drinking game, Grantaire couldn’t resist. By the next meeting of the Amis, R had a printed out and laminated a set of rules that he followed to the letter. They were as follows: 

Glare- 1 drink  
Sighs, rolls eyes, or runs his fingers through his glorious golden locks in frustration- 1 drink (Drink again if his hair settles in either a fluffed up position of irritation or if part of it sticks up unnaturally)   
Comments about how much he is drinking- 2 drinks   
Enjolras references him being useless or a drunk- 1 drink   
Enjolras questions why R is even there- 1 drink  
Idea being automatically shot down- 1 drink   
If that same idea is brought up again by another member of the group and is then accepted- 2 drinks  
Being pointedly ignored- 1 shot   
Threats to kick R out of the Amis- 2 shots  
The entirety of Enjolras’ righteous fury focused on R- finish your drink

At the top of the paper, underlined and bolded, was the name Grantaire had come up with for his little game. Competitive Enjolras. He didn’t name it such because of the actual rhetorical competitions he got in with the other man leading up to the drinking, but rather because it was a competition between different parts of himself. What would win? His self-preservation or his overwhelming need to gain any of Enjolras’ attention coupled with his innate compulsion to disrupt idealistic monologues. 

As far as R could see it, the game was a win-win for him. Either Enjolras was being a righteous dick and R would drink enough alcohol to dull the pain, or Enjolras was actually civil to him that night and R could pretend that they were almost friends. That the other man didn’t actively dislike his presence at the meetings. 

It didn’t take long for the rest of the Amis to figure out what he was doing. Especially after how shit faced he’d gotten that week he’d taken to humming ‘Here Comes the Sun’ whenever Enjolras came near. The fact that Joly had caught him laminating the rules list in the library also probably didn’t help him keep it a secret, but they would have probably found out soon enough anyway. Bahorel found the whole thing hilarious, and he and Bossuet quickly joined in. Of course, they couldn’t play the game for themselves, the one time they had tried drinking only when they received Enjolras’ displeasure they had both ended the night far too sober. So, they began to drink when R did. And then Courfeyrac joined in, followed by Eponine, and then Jehan and Joly (though they made sure that their drinks had a much lower alcohol content than the straight whiskey R imbibed). Eventually the only ones not playing the game were Marius (who somehow seemed to be oblivious that anything out of the ordinary was happening despite the synchronized shots happening throughout the group), Combeferre (who heavily disapproved), and Enjolras himself. 

Grantaire wasn’t sure if Enjolras knew what was happening in the meetings. They weren’t really hiding what they were doing but, at the same time, Enjolras could be almost as oblivious as Marius when it came to things that weren’t one of his causes. Meaning he probably had no idea that he was suddenly the subject of a group drinking game. 

And everything was going fine, or at least that’s what R claimed. He would antagonize his Apollo, feel the righteous anger turned fully upon him, and then drink for his troubles. It worked. Until it didn’t.  
See, usually Grantaire knew when to stop. He would point out everything wrong with Enjolras’ incredibly optimistic arguments and then sit back to drown his wounds in alcohol. But then Enjolras was preaching things that were just so plain wrong that R had to correct him. Had to make him see that nothing he was talking about was feasible. That he wasn’t helping this cause. He had to get some amount of sense through his thick, optimistic skull.

This time Enjolras was trying to focus all the groups attention on boycotting a new Disney, children’s movie that was coming out. His reasoning: that it was being marketed as an extremely progressive movie just because the antagonist and hero were both women. However, he believed that they should be punished for using that marketing strategy because they weren’t doing enough to further any movement. All the characters were white, the women had unrealistic body proportions, the voice actors were all white, and there were no lgbt characters to speak of. And while Grantaire agreed that it was far from a dream movie for any group of downtrodden people, a boycott was a stupid idea. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled loudly, as soon as Enjolras had finished his impassioned speech. That earned him a glare, one drink all around. 

“What is your problem this time?” Their fearless leader spat in R’s direction, “do you think that this movie deserves the money it’s going to be bringing in from all those it’s fooling into convincing it’s a progressive victory?”

“Yes, I do think that it deserves it.”

“You would.”

“I’m sorry that us lesser mortals are willing to see movies that don’t live up to your lofty expectations, oh mighty Apollo.” Enjolras raked his hand through his golden locks in irritation, another drink was earned. “But some of us here realize that progress is as slow as fuck and will never happen if you punish media companies for every step they make.”

“They shouldn’t be able to earn endless amounts of money every time they give a female character a line! It’s 2013, we should be past this by now!”

“And yet look around you, the world isn’t magically fixed because you want it to be. Shit is still going down no matter how much you want everything to be better. So how about you accept that little steps are a big deal from major corporations.”

“Because it’s not enough! Why are you even here if you don’t understand that the world should be better?” Another drink.

“Because you’re going about this in the wrong way. If a movie focusing on two women doesn’t make money, it will be used an example until the end of time that movies about women aren’t going to make enough to be worth it. How can you not see this?” R was standing now, his focus zeroed in on the blond man he was arguing with even more than usual. The rest of the Corinth was fading away around him, a sign that this fight was going to turn bad. 

“Haven’t you been listening at all to our meeting?! We are going to make it clear that this movie isn’t progressive enough. That if they want to make money they are going to have to do better with their representation. They can’t keep making white women who have eyes bigger than their waists and need straight white men stepping in to solve their problems.” Enjolras had stepped closer and closer with each phrase. His eyes were narrowed in on Grantaire. 

R could feel the entirety of the blond’s righteous fury descending on him. In the back of his mind the rules of his game niggled at him until he remembered to down the rest of his drink. The burn of his drink down his throat just added to the ambiance of the scene. His drunkness the perfect counter to Enjolras’ idealistic passion. 

“And now you’re drinking again! Can’t you stay out of your cups for long enough to even defend your position?” Enjolras’ scoffed in disgust prompting R to reach down and grab at the glass he knew Bossuet would have passed his way. 

“Sorry if my drinking offends you, oh mighty Apollo, but I need some way to cope with the sheer amount of impractical idealism being foisted upon me. You can’t honestly believe that the news is suddenly going to be nuanced enough to properly lay out the reasons for your protest. How, after all these failed attempts, can you possibly trust your message to actually get through to those in power. Because they don’t want to hear it and you know it. All that the public will hear is that the ticket sales were low, that people weren’t seeing this movie, and that some misguided liberals were mad that there was a movie about women. How the hell do you still think that the outcome will be any different.”

“You know what, since you obviously don’t believe in what you’re doing, why don’t you just leave. If you don’t think we can change anything, stop coming here and wasting our time. The time that we should be using to better plan how to clearly convey our message.”

“And Apollo just threatened to kick me out of the group, that’s what, two shots all around?” R sarcastically smiled as he turned to address the group. The group who were all staring at him with varied degrees of horror. And then R realized what he’d done. The first rule of competitive Enjolras was that you didn’t talk about competitive Enjolras where he could hear you. And R had broken it. His head whipped back around to face his Apollo, who was staring at him with a confused expression.

“What do you mean it’s two shots?” The anger was draining from his voice.

R looked around the room, searching for any help, but all his friends were frozen in horror.

“Grantaire, what do you mean it’s two shots?” Enjolras was still focused in on him, his voice getting more lost and confused, “what’s going on?”

R couldn’t respond. Where he usually had no problem blabbering on for any length of time, now, with Enjolras looking at him with that lost expression, he couldn’t bring himself to form words. So he did what he did best, ran away from his problems. In this case, literally. He scooped up his messenger bag and hightailed it out of the Corinth. 

////

Enjolras stared, mouth agape, at the spot that seconds ago had contained Grantaire. He could not fathom what was happening. What had caused the other man to practically run from the bar. While his mind was still trying to process the strange events of the last few minutes, his eyes noticed the light reflecting off something on the ground below the chair R had been sitting in for a majority of the meeting. None of his friends moved an inch as Enjolras picked up what turned out to be a laminated sheet of paper with what appeared to be a list of rules for a drinking game on it. But as Enjolras went through the short list over and over again, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, he became too focused to notice Combeferre herding the rest of the group to the door and out on to the street.   
Enjolras wasn’t stupid or oblivious, he’d noticed that his friends had been acting strange the past few weeks. They’d been drinking more and laughing at odd times, but he’d just written it off as some inside joke or the stress of being out of college getting to them. He’d never expected anything like this. Hadn’t been prepared for Competitive Enjolras. 

Logically he knew that he shouldn’t see this as anything more than a mild annoyance. His friends were always out trying to do some wacky new way to tease him. They wouldn’t have meant anything personal by it. But he’d found this under Grantaire’s chair. Coming from him, it just might be personal. He knew the artist had issues with him and his visions for the betterment of society. He knew that they didn’t see eye to eye and that they snapped at each other too much. But he’d still never thought it would go this far. 

Enjolras was only able to tear his eyes away from the page when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Combeferre. Staring at him with a sympathetic look. He’d known about it. 

“Why?” Enjolras’ voice sounded small even to him. 

“You’d have to ask R.”

“But why would everyone… did you?”

“No, I never joined. And you know the rest of them didn’t mean anything by it.”

“How can…” Enjolras started before Ferre held up a hand to stop him.

“I’m not saying they should have done it, and they all owe you more apologies than they can count. It’s just important that you know they weren’t trying to be malicious. You know none of them would intentionally hurt you.”

“Even R?” Enjolras knew what Grantaire thought of him at this point. And it just made him more snappish than usual when the other man was around. He’d tried to win him over more times than he could count. He wanted the other man to think well of him, to be proud of him, but all he ever got was sarcasm or disdain. And even though he knew that he should just be able to brush it off, he couldn’t. Not when it came from R. So, he would snap back against those remarks. Try to protect himself from the hurt he shouldn’t be feeling. And their relationship had just gotten worse and worse. And now here they were. 

“Even R. I don’t know what his reasons were for starting this, but you need to believe he wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Why would he even care?” Enjolras shot back, knowing that he was being too hard on someone who was just trying to help but also unable to stop himself. “He obviously sees me as just some vicious idealist with no grip on reality or empathy. I mean just look at these rules! Do I really threaten to kick him out of the group enough that it qualifies as one of ten rules? Does he really think that I hate him that much?”

“I don’t think I’m the right person to be talking to about this. You’re going to need to go to Grantaire to get your answers.”

“But why should I when he obviously hates being around me that much. From the looks of this, he thinks my entire life is centered around attacking him and everything he does.”

“That’s not it,” a third voice cut in from the doorway. A voice Enjolras was more used to hearing mocking him than giving him information with any truth. A voice that belonged to Grantaire.

////

It had taken R a grand total of three minutes to realize he didn’t have the rule sheet with him, comprehend how much worse the situation would be if Enjolras found it, and talk himself into going back to retrieve it. He’d waited until the rest of their group had exited the bar then made his way back up only to be stopped short at the door by the voices of Enjolras and Combeferre. Enjolras just sounded so defeated and hurt. Emotions that R would have gladly given his life to protect his golden god from. As he listened to their conversation it sunk in how human Enjolras really was. It was so easy for R to stick him up on a pedestal and only think about how to hide his feelings, it was so much harder to accept the complexities and humanity of the other man. And when R heard the weary, resigned tone Enjolras was using to describe how much R must hate him, he knew that he had to do something. Had to set at least part of the record straight. 

“That’s not it,” he cut in from the doorway, putting as much confidence in his voice as he could. Even while internally he was shaking with fear about the conversation they were about to have.   
“R,” Combeferre nodded in his direction, “I’m glad you came back. You two need to talk about this.” Combeferre gave him a pointed look before exiting the room and leaving R alone with Enjolras. 

“You don’t have to look so scared, I’m not going to attack you.” Enjolras sighed as he sank into a chair. 

“I don’t think that,” Enjolras shot him an exasperated look, “I guess I just.. I don’t mean that… It wasn’t supposed to… Fuck!” Grantaire balled his fists in frustration. 

“Look, I get it, we don’t get along,” Enjolras was tracing the wood grain of the table while he spoke. “And I get that I’m hard on you, I just…”

“It’s not that,” R interjected, “this didn’t have to do with you.” Enjolras looked up for long enough to shoot him a skeptical look. “I know it sounds weird but this was honestly so the others would stop freaking out, okay? They were getting all weird because we’re always arguing and they kept asking me if I was okay and blah blah blah so I just put this together so they’d stop taking things so seriously.”  
“Was it really that bad?” Enjolras had a pained expression on his face. “Did I really get to the point that they thought I was… Was I hurting you?”

“Christ Enjolras! No, I was fine. I brought it on myself anyway, I just kept goading you and attacking your plans. If I couldn’t handle the blow back I got from that I’d be a poor excuse for a cynical asshole.” He tried to crack a smile, to lighten the mood, but Enjolras was frowning at him. 

“You’re not.”

“What, a cynical asshole? Jeez Enjy, I knew you were oblivious but even you had to have…” 

“You’re not bringing anything on yourself.” Enjolras cut him off mid sentence. “I need to learn to control my reactions better. You have a way of getting under my skin but that’s no excuse for me to treat you like this!” Enjolras brandished the rule sheet in his hand. “I didn’t realize how bad it was even getting.” His voice sounded small as he looked back down at the rules. 

“Shit. No, this really really isn’t on you. It’s me. I just.. Ah fuck I just honestly did a it’s not you its me.” Grantaire balled his hands in frustration and looked up at the ceiling, he couldn’t keep looking at how small Enjolras’ seemed. “Fuck it, you know I’m not good with sincerity so you better freaking cherish this.” 

Grantaire glanced back down to see Enjolras looking at him with an earnest expression. Fuck this was going to be hard but if humiliating and outing himself was the way to cheer up his Apollo, he’d do it gladly. 

“I’ve been known to self-sabotage and our friends were catching on,” R started as he resolutely turned his eyes to point anywhere other than Enjolras. “Some of our friends were starting to notice the way I goad you and they were rude enough to not just accept that I am a cynical asshat and ask me what I was doing so I came up with this game to get them off my back. See that way everyone has a good time when I’m a dick. Well except you I suppose.” He risked a small glance back at the object off his affections only to notice him with a furrowed brow. “Yeah not a great reason I know but…”

“How is that self-sabotaging?” 

“Uh yeah the thing about that is, uh, it’s like not super important?”

“You’re the one who brought it up, some part of you obviously thought it was important.”

“Trust me on this one, you don’t want to hear the answer.”

“I think I do.” Enjolras’ voice was closer. When he glanced over he saw that the blond had stepped into his space and was looking at him with an unreadable expression. 

“You’re sure you really want to hear this?”

“I’ve asked you three times, I’m sure.”

“Well okay, but don’t blame me if this fucks everything up even more than the stupid game.” Grantaire had turned to face Enjolras but found he couldn’t look the other man in the eyes. He stared down at their feet instead. How they were merely inches apart. “It’s like a school kid pulling pigtails, I guess. At least that’s how Courf puts it. And well, being a dick and contrary is a good way to get… attention. Ep keeps saying it’s not good attention but I mean that hardly matters when half our encounters end with me chugging a beer anyway, right?”

“School kid pulling pigtails… like a crush?”

Grantaire could feel his face heating up and he stared at his feet, unable to look at Enjolras’ reaction. 

“Grantaire,” Enjolras voice was soft, “are you saying you did this because you like me?”

“I mean I guess, kinda,” R shifted his weight nervously, still refusing to meet Enjolras’ eyes. His face was burning with embarrassment. “So yeah anyway I didn’t mean for you to find out, obviously, and like I get that its super immature and stupid and—”

“Grantaire.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” Enjolras sounded fond? Why the fuck did Enjolras sound fond??? R glanced up to see Enjolras smiling at him. What the fuck????????

////

Enjolras felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Grantaire didn’t hate him. Grantaire liked him! God, they were both such socially incompetent idiots! They’d both gone about such terrible ways to deal with their feelings but Enjolras couldn’t bring himself to care about that right now. He was standing face to face with a blushing Grantaire who had just confessed to him. This was not how he’d seen his day going but he was so okay with it. 

“How about next time you drink because of me it’s because I bought you the drink?” Enjolras reached forward and let his fingers curl around Grantaire’s hand.

“Huh?” Grantaire’s blush grew even deeper, it was adorable. “Why are you buying— was that supposed to be a pickup line?”

“Uh,” Enjolras realized he apparently was not as smooth as he thought he was in his head, “only if you want it to be?”

“I mean yeah I want it to be,” Grantaire was smiling now, “but if that’s your idea of hitting on me that I can’t believe I was ever intimidated by you.”

“Sorry we can’t all be flirt masters.”

“Flirt masters! My god, you are such a dork!”

“So, I’ll take it that everything is okay?” Combeferre’s voice called from the doorway.

“All good here,” Enjolras sent Ferre a smile as he intertwined his fingers with Grantaire’s. All was good indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Headcannon: they actually talk through their shit after this cause neither of them know how to deal with their emotions and their relationship will crash and burn if they don't learn how to communicate with each other.


End file.
